A Work Of Heart
by Jorun
Summary: If he had been a spiritual man he might have called it fate, as it was he really didn't believe in that sort of thing, no, not at all. Which is why he knew it was just a coincidence that she would walk through the door mere seconds after he'd had a last minute cancellation.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, no copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made, this is just a hobby.

**Author's Notes:** Here it is, my first Doctor Who fic. I wrote this with the Tenth Doctor in mind but as it's not specified it could just as well be any Doctor that strikes your fancy. A million thanks to ShadowLink5 for beta reading.

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If he had been a spiritual man he might have called it fate, as it was he really didn't believe in that sort of thing, no, not at all. And if there actually was such a thing as destiny he was sure the universe wouldn't be so kind to him, it sure as hell hadn't been so far.

Which is why he knew it was just a coincidence that she would walk through the door mere seconds after he'd had a last minute cancellation.

She wore jeans and a hoodie, her bleached hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and she had on way too much mascara; she was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Hello, I'm looking for the Doctor?"

He had an sudden urge to say something ridiculous like how he'd been waiting his whole life for her to find him, an impulse he was thankfully able to tamper and instead respond like a normal human being. "Well you found him, what can I do for you?"

A lovely smile graced her face. "I want to book an appointment, I have a tattoo I want to cover up."

It wasn't how it was supposed to work; he had a packed schedule and a waiting list a mile long. He knew exactly who was at the top of the list- Martha Jones had already been waiting for ten months and it was only right that she got the cancelled appointment. He wasn't about to put a complete stranger in front of the line only because she had a smile he was sure could light up all of London.

Yet somehow he found words spilling from his mouth entirely without his brain's consent. "You're in luck, I have an opening right now."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, "Wow, really? I wasn't expecting…"

"I can book you an appointment if you can't right now, but I don't have another opening until August."

"No, no, now is great, now is perfect, the sooner I get rid of this monstrosity the better."

"Well let's take a look at it, see what I have to work with."

"It's on my back," she explained, turning around and pulling up her sweater, the words _Property of Jimmy Stone _written in bold black letters across her lower back.

He let out an unintelligible noise in response but not only because of the abhorrent motive or that the tattoo was poorly done; as a cover up, the tattoo was complicated at best, the text was solid black although slightly faded and he could see some scar tissue where the artist had pushed the needle in too hard, he doubted this had been done by a professional.

She seemed to know what he was thinking as she turned back to face him. "Yeah, I know. My ex-boyfriend got me a tattoo for my birthday, and by got I mean he borrowed one of his friends' tattoo machine, it was supposed to be a memorial tattoo for my dad but as you can see my boyfriend had other ideas." Her expression changed from vexed to anxious as she pleaded, "Please tell me you can help me, I've already been to three other tattoo artists and they all said it can't be done, you're my last hope."

He scratched his neck as he pondered how to best cover it up, "Well, really the big question is what you have in mind for your new tattoo?"

"I don't even know, I just want it gone."

It wouldn't be easy, but he was the Doctor, one of the best in the business and he never backed down from a challenge. "It's going to have to be fairly large with a lot of dark colours to cover up the writing."

"But you'll do it?" she asked, hopeful.

He was fairly sure he wouldn't have been able to deny her anything when she looked at him like that. "Yeah, I'll do it."

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in an impromptu hug. He didn't have time to react before she let him go, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Right, well… if you don't have a motive in mind, why don't you tell me what this tattoo means to you, what you want it to represent?"

She seemed to contemplate it for a moment and let out a deep sigh before answering, "Me, leaving that loser Jimmy Stone behind me and living a better life, not giving up and just letting things happen, taking a stand and having the guts to do what's right when everyone else just runs away."

He felt a smile begin to form as he listened to her passionate speech; if there was one thing he could relate to it was going against the current. "Sounds like one hell of a tattoo to me."

She smiled softly and a long moment passed as they gazed at each other; forcing himself to snap out of it he gestured to the tattoo chair. "Alright, let's get started. I always freehand all my cover ups, it's easier to make sure it covers the old tattoo properly."

She nodded her head in understanding, stretching out on her stomach. She lay silent as he drew out his design, he had a good idea of what he wanted to do but it took a while to make sure it would cover the old tattoo.

Finally satisfied with the result he spoke, "Take a look in the mirror, see what you think. It's a bit hard to tell with the old tattoo underneath but it will give you a rough idea."

"No need," she replied, meeting his gaze, "I trust you."

He felt his throat close up at her words, he'd just met her half an hour ago and she was prepared to trust him completely. Not knowing what to say to convey his gratitude he gave her what he hoped was an assuring smile and judging by her answering grin he succeeded.

Getting to work he began tattooing the outline, "Does that feel okay?"

"Yeah."

"So how did you wind up in my little shop?" he asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"Jack Harkness recommended you."

He felt a flare of jealousy surge through him, Jack was an old friend and fellow tattoo artist, they'd always had a friendly dose of competition between them but he knew firsthand what a flirt Jack was. He managed to hold in the question burning on his tongue for about 15 seconds, "How do you know Jack?"

"I attended one of his art courses."

He looked up at her in surprise, "You're an artist?"

"It's just a hobby."

"You any good?"

Her smile this time was shy as she shrugged her shoulders slightly, "Decent, I suppose."

He went back to outline as he asked, "Ever thought about becoming a tattoo artist?"

"I don't think I could hack it, I prefer drawing with pencils so I can erase any mistakes. You screw up a tattoo then the person have to live with it," she reasoned, bitterness tinting her voice.

"Why did you wait so long to get it covered?"

"Couldn't afford it, I've spent every weekend for the last year working extra shifts to be able to pay for this."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, the more he learned about her the more she fascinated him, granted he found most people fascinating but never before had anyone made him feel so captivated.

"How come people call you the Doctor?" she asked suddenly.

"I used to be one... technically still am. I have a doctorate in physics, used to work as an experimental physicist."

"What happened?"

"I got bored," he answered honestly, shrugging his shoulders. Truth was, even though he had loved his job he'd hated being locked up in his lab all day; he'd wanted to be out in the world, meet new people.

She stared at him in shock before bursting out laughing, he had to stop tattooing until she calmed down enough to stay still.

They talked amiably as he worked, sharing stories from their childhood and bonding over art, music and where in London you could get the best chips.

She held up well but as she started to grow more and more quiet he could tell the pain was starting to get to her. Five and a half hours in he turned off the tattoo gun, "We should probably call it done for today, I still have a bit of shading left to do but I can schedule you in about a month to have it finished."

"No, I'd rather get this done," she insisted.

He hesitated for a second, "Are you sure? It's going to take a couple more hours."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Seeing his uncertain expression she assured him, "Really, I can take it."

Satisfied that she was fine for now he got back to work, keeping a careful eye on her to make sure she wasn't pushing herself too hard. Two hours later he added the final highlights and announced, "You're all done, take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think."

His stomach tied in knots as it suddenly hit him that she had no idea what he'd done. What if he had completely interpreted her vision wrong? What if she hated it?

With his heart in his throat he watched as she got a first look of her new tattoo in the mirror, a smile slowly starting to spread across her face.

"How did you know wolves are my favourite animal?"

Finally able to breathe again he answered, "Thought it would suit you, I added the roses to soften it a little but I thought red roses would be to ordinary so I went with pink and yellow instead-" he stopped his rambling when he suddenly noticed her looking at him with a peculiar look in her eyes. "What?"

"Rose. It's my name, Rose."

It wasn't until that moment that it dawned on him that he'd never gotten her name.

She turned her gaze back to the mirror, "The eyes almost look like they're glowing," she noted, awe in her voice.

She seemed happy with the result but he had to make sure, "So you like it?"

"I love it," she beamed at him and once again threw her arms around his neck but this time she didn't let go. Careful not to come in touch with the tattoo he returned her embrace, when she finally did step back he felt bereft of her warmth.

He busied himself with getting the tattoo properly bandaged up and took extra long care in instructing her on how to take care of it wanting to stay in her presence as long as possible.

When he was all done she got her wallet out of her pocket, "How much do I owe you?"

He's not sure where he got the courage to say what he did next, "How about some chips."

She looked at him blankly, "Chips?"

"It's 10 pm and I'm starving, plus you need to eat something after that sitting. You buy me some chips in the diner across the street and we'll call it even."

She bit her bottom lip and studied him for a moment, sizing him up. "Seems a bit cheap if you ask me."

Her expression was serious but there was a glint in her eyes that prompted him to continue. "Alright, how about chips and… your phone number?"

He held his breath as he waited for her answer; he had never been so nervous in his life and if he'd read her wrong it could end in disaster.

Finally she smiled, her tongue peeking out and she held out her hand, "Deal."

He grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, grinning as he pulled her out the doors exclaiming, "Run!"


End file.
